The Meaning of Diligence
by Little.Miss.Xanda
Summary: He had always loved his books; however, that love had been taken to a different level once he had met Tom. At first he had amassed knowledge just for the sake of it. Now, though, he hoped that every kernel of knowledge he was able to gather would make Tom notice him. He wanted to be better than he was; was it so bad to want to be better for the sake of someone else?


**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made.

 **Written for the Quidditch League – Season 4 Fanfiction Competition – Round 6**

 **Prompt: Deadly Sins & Heavenly Virtues**

Your prompts for this round are all inspired by the Seven Deadly Sins. This was a topic that featured in a couple of entries for last year's 'Create A Round' competition, so we've made it a part of season 4… only, we're including the Seven Heavenly Virtues as well.

Each position has been given a sin and its countering virtue as a prompt. You are to write about only **one** for your story, pertaining to the following rules:

SIN prompts must be committed or portrayed by a canonically light character.

VIRTUE prompts must be demonstrated or portrayed by a canonically dark character.

 **Chaser 2:** Write about a light character committing the sin of SLOTH or a dark character demonstrating the virtue of DILIGENCE.

 **Picked:** Diligence

 **Additional prompts:**

#2.(dialogue) "I only came because I was told there was going to be cake."

#10.(quote) 'I have always known who you really are, and that's why I love you.' - Belle, Once Upon A Time

#14.(quote) 'The creation of a thousand forests is one acorn.' - Ralph Waldo Emerson

 **Chaser 2 for the Wimbourne Wasps**

* * *

 **The Meaning of Diligence**

The fire was crackling in the fireplace, giving the whole common room an eery glow. The only thing that could be heard in the otherwise silent room was the scratching of a quill over parchment. It was well into the night, and all students were already in bed—well, all but one.

As was becoming habit, Antonin was up long after everyone else had gone to sleep. His fellow Slytherins had even started to call him a closet Ravenclaw. Not that he minded, of course. Their petty words would not make him change his mind. He would work hard and do the best he could. He had to.

"Still awake?"

He turned, his lips quirking when he saw Avila walking down the stairs.

"So are you."

Avila chuckled, walking towards a sofa near him and sitting down, tucking her legs beneath her. "No, Antonin. I woke up, while you haven't gone to bed yet. It's different."

His lips twitched again. He had known Avila since both of them were small children. They had become friends almost instantly. Both of them were just different enough from the other children that they had gravitated towards each other.

"Why are you still up?" Avila asked, leaning back on the sofa and making herself more comfortable.

"I'm trying to get these runes sequences right. Tom is really interested in runes. You should have seen him in class today, Avila. He's so talented. I have to study, work harder, do better, to be able to even understand what comes so naturally to him." Antonin shook his head. The sheer talent that Tom had was mind-boggling. It truly was no wonder that all of Slytherin practically worshiped him.

Avila sighed, and his gaze snapped to her. He tilted his head to the side slightly. "What?"

"Nothing, Antonin." She smiled at him, but he could see something lurking in her eyes.

He narrowed his gaze, and she sighed once more.

"It's just… You do all of this for him, and I doubt he even notices."

"Avila… It isn't like that."

It wasn't. He liked keeping an organized timetable. He enjoyed trying his best to get better. He liked achieving things through his own hard work. Yes, he might do it to make Tom proud as well, but was that truly a bad thing? Was it wrong of him to wish to be better so he could help Tom?

"Are you sure?" Avila asked, leaning forward and resting her hand on his knee. "You used to be much more carefree, even if you liked your books. Now… it's as if little else matters."

Antonin put down his quill, taking her small hand between his own. "I'm sure, Avila. I just want to be diligent with my studies. I want to do well, to be better. Is that so bad?"

Avila locked her clear sapphire eyes with his dark gray ones for a moment before a small smile spread on her lips.

"I suppose it isn't." She grinned then, her eyes brightening with mischief. "But to make up for always being holed up studying, you'll go to Slughorn's farewell party tomorrow. No! Not a word out of you, mister," Avila said, wagging her finger at him when he opened his mouth to protest. "It's the end of our last year at Hogwarts. We'll be leaving in three months. This party is just a little bit of fun before the exams. I want to see you there, Antonin. Promise me."

Avila glared at him, though he would consider it more of a pout, and he sighed.

"Alright, I promise."

She grinned, throwing her arms up and jumping a little in place. Antonin snorted and shook his head, shooing her away when she jumped from her seat on the sofa to hug him.

"Yes, yes, you got your way—again. Now go back to bed and let me finish this, so that I can keep my promise tomorrow." The bright spark in his eyes belied his harsher words and Avila laughed, almost twirling her way to the dormitory.

"Good night, Antonin," she chirped, waving at him before disappearing down the corridor.

He shook his head, turning back to his notes; a small smile stayed on his lips for the rest of the night.

* * *

"You came!"

Antonin was barely able to stop himself from falling when Avila threw herself at him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying them both. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at her hyper attitude.

"I only came because I was told there was going to be cake." He smiled down at her when she laughed.

"Is that so, Antonin?"

His smile was wiped from his face and his back straightened before he was even aware of what he was doing. At the same time, he took a step away from Avila, keeping her at arm's length. His eyes fell on the tall, aristocratic young man that was standing behind them.

"Tom." He bowed his head slightly, his heart beating faster than it had mere moments before. How was it that Tom had that effect on him, even after all these years? It should have passed by now, but it was only getting stronger.

Tom's lips twitched. "Antonin." Then he glanced at Avila. "Blackwood."

Antonin would never know how it was possible for Tom to say so much with just a name. Those who didn't know Tom might not notice anything; however, Antonin could clearly hear the mocking in that single word, the disdain.

He almost flinched. It was no secret to those that were close to Tom just how little he thought of Avila. Tom believed—and several others agreed with him—that Avila was wasting the talents and connections she had, as well as shaming her pureblood name.

Avila was a Blackwood—an off-branch of the Black family. She had political connections most could only dream off, and she did nothing with them. That wasn't even the worst part in their eyes; Avila didn't despise Muggleborns or Muggles. She believed they could be useful and should be treated better.

It was one of those things Antonin avoided thinking about. She was a dear friend. He didn't want their political views tearing them apart.

Tom though... Well, Tom despised her with every fiber of his being.

"Riddle."

And though Avila would never say it, she despised him just as much.

Tom narrowed his eyes for a moment, then turned away from her, clearly dismissing her. Avila's gaze grew frosty, and Antonin wanted nothing more than to hold her hand and tell her that everything was fine, that she just needed to breathe. However, he wouldn't dare. Not now at least. He couldn't risk it.

He continued looking at Tom, even though he could feel the burning gaze of Avila on him. He held firm, even though he heard the soft sigh coming from his old friend.

Delicate footsteps announced Avila's departure, and Antonin despised himself for a fraction of a second. Though, all of it was washed from his mind when he felt a warm hand touch his arm. He looked back up, his eyes locking with Tom's, and all other matters were suddenly unimportant.

"Antonin." Tom's tone was slightly warmer, and Antonin cursed himself for falling prey to it so easily. "We will have a small gathering after we have finished Hogwarts. We will gather as soon as we leave the train. Considering how well you have been doing, I thought it would be remiss of me, if I did not invite you."

Antonin's eyes widened slightly. He nodded. "I… Of course. I would be honored to attend."

A shark-like smile painted Tom's lips, and Antonin was equal parts exhilarated and scared.

"Good. I look forward to see what you accomplish."

Antonin kept on staring at the same place long after Tom had gone. He would do his very best not to let Tom down. He swore it.

* * *

Antonin looked around curiously. It was the first time he had been in the Muggle world, and he couldn't help but let his eyes roam over every little thing. He didn't know why Tom had brought them to the Muggle world for this gathering, but he wasn't going to ask. If it was something they needed to know, Tom would tell them soon enough.

They finally stopped in front of an older-looking building. It looked better than the ones beside it, but it was clearly in need of some repairs. The only building that was in a better state was the church just beside it.

Tom sneered at both the building and the church before turning to look at them.

"I thought I would give all of you a graduation gift." Tom smiled at them. "These people, these _Muggles_ , they preach the word of their God, stating that witches and wizards should be burned at the stake. They would see us dead for being different. They fear us. They fear our strength. They consider themselves better than us! These Muggles dare to believe that they are better than us." Tom shook his head. "They fear us," Tom whispered softly, before his eyes snapped up, a fierce fire burning in them. "My gift to you, my friends, is to give them a reason to fear us."

Antonin felt his heart hammering away in his chest. Was it fear? Excitement? He wasn't quite sure. Nonetheless, he followed the others inside. They sealed the doors in their wake, silencing the church from the outside world.

They spread out, Tom taking the lead. Soon enough, screams started echoing in the church, confused and afraid at first, then pained and horrified.

Antonin continued walking deeper into the church. Was he running from the screams? From Tom's expectations? He didn't know. He wasn't sure. There were always so many things he didn't know when it came to Tom.

He was so distracted that he didn't even notice when he ran into someone. He glanced down at the person he had knocked over. A priest. Antonin tilted his head, looking at the middle-aged man curiously.

The priest staggered away from him, looking back towards where he had come from every time a scream tore through the air.

Antonin could practically smell his fear. The man paled when they heard footsteps coming in their direction. Antonin didn't move; he would recognize that slow, leisurely gait anywhere. The person stopped right behind him, and Antonin could feel their breath on his neck.

"I see you caught a little fish, Antonin," Tom murmured, and Antonin could hear the smirk in his voice.

Tom stepped just a little closer, and Antonin didn't move. He kept his eyes locked on the priest, narrowing slightly when the priest's lips curled in disgust. That wasn't quite the reaction he had been expecting from someone who had seemed to be on the brink of dying of fright.

"You're one of those abominations!" the man uttered, eyes flickering from Tom to him and back again. Did the priest know they were wizards? Did they have a way to know such things? "Men who lay with other men; it's the most repulsive sin one can commit!"

Antonin's eyes widened, and he almost took a step back. What? _What_?

He respected Tom. He valued Tom more than anyone else. But that wasn't the sort of relationship they had. He wouldn't deny Tom if Tom wanted him in his bed, but that was because it was _Tom_ , not because Tom was male. It wasn't sexual. It was… He didn't know. He wasn't sure it could be put into words. He had never needed to. All of them knew. There had never been any kind of explanation needed.

The priest's eyes focused on him, turning almost beseeching. "You're young still. You can be cured. You can be cleansed of this abomination. It would require diligent work from you, but it is possible. You can be rid of this taint."

Antonin tensed, and he could feel Tom's gaze on him, but for the first time in his life he was able to ignore it. He wasn't able to look away from the Muggle on the floor.

"Diligent?" he murmured, taking a step forward. "Diligent?" he repeated, shaking his head. "Do you think you know the meaning of diligence?" He took his wand out, pointing it at the priest. "Let me tell you about diligence." Antonin continued to walk towards the man, even as the Muggle scuttled backwards. "Diligence is being awake at four am because you _need_ to finish your work. Not for yourself, but for him. Because you want him to know that you are worthy of the tiny scraps of attention that he gives you. Diligence is making sure that you have an organized timetable, because you know he doesn't like things to be late. Diligence is trying your best every single time, just to be able to keep up with him. I have faith that my efforts, zeal, and dedication will be enough to make him realize just how much I believe in him. I have faith that the tiny acorn that is my effort will give origin to a forest of knowledge that might be useful to him." Antonin stopped in front of the man, his eyes dark and hard. "You know nothing about diligence."

When they had walked into this church, he had had a moment of doubt. He hadn't known if he would be able to do what needed to be done. Now though, as he watched the priest writhe and scream under his wand, he wondered how he had ever thought he wouldn't have been able to do it.

For Tom, he would show this Muggle just how diligent he was.

* * *

He stumbled out of the Floo. Usually, he was far more graceful; however, he confessed that his legs were feeling a little weak. He was still feeling high from what they had just done. The ecstasy coursing through him was unbelievable. He had never felt anything quite like it before.

"You're home late."

His head snapped to the side, finding Avila sitting on an armchair near the desk in his private parlor. His eyes widened slightly, his wand hand dropping as soon as he saw who it was.

"Avila," he whispered, unable to utter anything else.

As her eyes roamed over him, he became painfully aware of the blood painting his clothing. He could even feel some of it on his neck and cheek. He might have been a little too enthusiastic while teaching that Muggle, now that he thought about it. At the time, he hadn't been able to stop. Feeling Tom's eyes on him while he tortured that Muggle had been intoxicating.

Avila stood from her seat and walked towards him. It took everything he had not to take a step back. She stopped in front of him, slowly raising her head and caressing his cheek. She wiped away the blood near his jaw. He closed his eyes, almost ashamed to look into hers.

His eyes snapped open when he felt her lips brushing against his softly.

"I have always known who you really are," she murmured. "It did not make me love you any less."

His breath caught in his throat, his arms going to wrap around her before he was even aware of doing it. "Avila," he breathed, unable to mask the awe he felt. How could someone like him ever deserve her love?

"I hope I am not interrupting?"

Antonin jumped away from her, eyes going to the tall, young man standing behind them.

"Tom," he murmured, eyes wide.

"Your house-elf let me in," Tom said, while he glanced at Avila from the corner of his eyes. "I came by because after your performance this afternoon, I wanted to invite you to come with me. I plan on traveling for a while, and believed you would be a good person to accompany me for at least part of my journey. I believed you valued knowledge just as much as I do. Though, it seems I might have been mistaken." Tom glanced once more at Avila before turning around and leaving the parlor.

Antonin stood frozen in place for a moment. Tom couldn't leave him behind. He had worked so hard. He had done everything he could to be worthy of Tom. Tom couldn't just leave him, not after everything.

"Antonin?" Avila whispered, and he looked at her. She glanced at the wand in his hand. She smiled, even as her eyes filled with tears. "I love you."

" _Avada Kedavra._ "

* * *

 **A.N.** : Thank you to the wonderful agentmoppet and kefalion for betaing. You guys rock :)


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